


Pale Moonlight

by demon_sloth



Category: Dark-Hunter Series - Sherrilyn Kenyon, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Insanity, M/M, Riding the crazy train, Slash, past mentions of abuse and torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-08
Updated: 2011-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demon_sloth/pseuds/demon_sloth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three years working as Zarek's Oneroi to learn compassion, M'Adoc has learnt one thing. Zarek is insane. Or, at least, about to become so very, very soon if nothing is done about it. Thanks to his posting, he's now unable to stand back and let it happen, so he goes to Ash with his findings. Together they work out that the only solution is the help of another individual who is just as scarred. The possible outcomes? Harry and Zarek will either cure each other…or drive each other faster to their downfalls. Who said the insane had to be lonely?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Before the Dark-Hunter series starts. (Three years after The Dream Hunter)

The walls start breathing,  
My mind's unweaving,  
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.

~ It Ends Tonight, All-American Rejects

#~#~#

 **1999 - Summer**

"Ash."

Ash twitched and turned around to find M'Adoc standing behind him. His lips thinned into a straight line at his discomfort as he shifted to face him fully and crossed his arms over his chest.

Entertaining guests in his human abode wasn't his most favourite of activities.

"M'Adoc." He greeted the dream-hunter cordially. "Why are you here? How is your posting with Zarek?"

M'Adoc nodded his head slightly, "The two are mutually exclusive."

Ash raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Zarek is…" M'Adoc trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated his wording carefully, "crazy."

"What?" Ash asked in disbelief.

"Well," M'Adoc backtracked slightly, "I may have exaggerated a little. But it's only a matter of time. Zarek is currently teetering on the brink of complete insanity."

Ash's arms fell to his sides, "How?"

M'Adoc shrugged, "Repercussions of what you did to his mind all those years ago. It's been trying to heal itself by pulling half-remembered memories and feelings and covering the missing time. But it's stretching everything too thin and his mind is fracturing under the strain."

Ash's eyes widened behind their customary sunglasses, but M'Adoc wasn't finished just yet.

"It has been fine for a long time, coping under the strain, but when you sent me in to help him it tipped him over the edge." M'Adoc sighed and seemed to sag in place. "I helped him work through some of his most potent grief and in doing so have accidentally unravelled his mind's defences against itself."

He glanced up at Ash as he tried to explain. "He's creating what are basically hallucinations to assail the holes, but instead of filling in what actually happened, he's imagination has increased his feelings of guilt, which increases his focus upon the memories which leads on to his mind creating more hallucinations…" M'Adoc sighed again, his shoulders twitching in a miniscule shrug, "It's a downward spiral."

"Can you fix this?" Ash asked.

M'Adoc raised an eyebrow.

"Without returning his memories to him," Ash clarified, "can you fix him without him remembering?"

"I've been with him three years," M'Adoc pointed out, "I can only work with what I've been given."

Ash sat down heavily on one of his leather settees. He didn't drop his head into his hands, but it was a close run thing. "So that's a no?"

"It's a no."

At the answer Ash finally gave into the temptation and pressed his fingers against his closed eyes under his sunglasses. "Damn." He whispered to no one in particular.

M'Adoc stood quietly in his place and tried to tell himself that this wasn't anything to do with him; he was just the messenger of a piece of really bad news.

"Okay." Ash said as he sat up, straightening his sunglasses so they covered his eyes, "Okay. What can we do? What are the options?"

"Put him down."

Ash shot the unrepentant dream-hunter a scathing look. "I'm not just going to kill him like an animal."

"It would be kinder in the long run."

" _No_." Ash hissed, "This is _my_ mistake, so I'm going to fix it."

"Like you fixed the last one?"

Ash jerked as if he'd been slapped in the face and M'Adoc felt guilt settle in his stomach. He refused to show it though, he was Oneroi. He didn't have feelings, but it didn't stop him apologising though.

"I apologise." He said quietly. "If you don't want to do that then you can always give him a distraction. If the mind starts to focus on something else then the strain will lessen, allowing it to heal the self-inflicted wounds.

"A distraction would also keep the attention away from the original fracture which should, with time, start to scar over."

"A distraction?" Ash asked, raising an eyebrow, "have you forgotten that Zarek is currently _banished_ to Alaska? Part of the punishment is that there are no distractions."

"I wasn't suggesting getting him a _picture_." M'Adoc retorted.

Ash swallowed his smile at the piqued response. "Then what _were_ you suggesting?"

"Another person."

"Like a squire?" Ash asked carefully.

"Yes."

"No squire will go near Zarek. Not only is he banished so far away and in complete solitude but the chat boards won't accept him or anyone working for him. They'd also be in complete solitude.

"If any squire went they'd either try to kill him or Zarek would kill them." Ash shrugged, "Either way Zarek is dead. Attacking a squire when he's already on punishment is an immediate death sentence."

M'Adoc sighed, the first real sign that he wasn't as unfeeling as he made himself out to be. It was also the first real sign that this conversation was beginning to irk him.

" _Like_ ," he stressed, "a squire. Like."

"Okay," Ash agreed, "But then you've got the problem of finding someone that isn't a dark-hunter or a squire but knows about us. Who doesn't have any previous prejudices about Zarek and won't take other peoples opinions as their own.

"And," he stressed, "Who won't mind being trapped out in the back of end of nowhere to be a _distraction_ to a lethal killer so he doesn't have a complete mental breakdown."

"Well, when you put it like that…" M'Adoc said, "you're going to narrow the field a lot."

"You think?"

M'Adoc ignored him and tapped his fingertips against his chin in a move that was entirely too human. "What about someone who's in the same boat as Zarek, as it were?"

"I don't have any other dark-hunters on probation, and even if I did I wouldn't put two together. You don't get many daimons in Alaska but its just common sense not to take the bullets out the gun when you've got enemies knocking at your door."

"I didn't mean that." M'Adoc said shortly, "What about someone with the same kind of injuries?"

Ash raised a questioning eyebrow, "Do we _know_ anyone with the same kind of injuries?"

M'Adoc looked at him in disbelief and then, when he saw that Ash really was clueless and not just being irritating, looked at him pointedly.

Ash was still clueless.

"Are you kidding me?" M'Adoc asked him.

Rather than perjure himself, Ash kept quiet.

"Seriously." M'Adoc said. "We were _just_ talking about him."

Ash winced when it all fell into place. "Harry."

M'Adoc shot him a 'no, duh' expression that Ash valiantly ignored.

"I don't like it." Ash tried to argue, "Harry would drive Zarek insane."

"Zarek's driving himself insane anyway." M'Adoc pointed out, "If it doesn't work then the only thing Harry would have accomplished is a quicker time."

"But what about Harry?" Ash asked, "How would this help him?"

M'Adoc shifted slightly, the only indication that he was uncomfortable with the situation. "Zarek might help him heal."

Ash's response was to look at him blankly.

"Alright," M'Adoc conceded, "weak, I know. But really, it's the best plan."

Ash pressed his lips together so hard they turned white, wishing that he could get rip-roaringly drunk and forget about everything for a few hours.

It wasn't to be though; instead he had to measure up the pros and cons of M'Adoc's proposal. There were plenty of reasons why they _shouldn't_ do this…but really, it was Zarek's last chance. And, despite the popular opinion of the half-Greek, Ash really _liked_ Zarek.

If there was any way he could help…

And Harry. He'd screwed up there, he knew it and wasn't going to try and sugar coat it. If there was a possibility that Harry might find some peace, he had to take it.

Besides, Harry had this weird quality to him where people either loved him or hated him…and that wasn't even mentioning his _luck_ situation…

This was either going to go spectacularly…or spectacularly wrong.

Ash sighed, his mind coming to the obvious decision, and looked to the dream-hunter that hadn't moved from the position he'd taken when he'd first arrived.

"I guess it's a plan." Ash grimaced slightly, "Now all I have to do is try and convince Harry to help."

"Good luck with that." M'Adoc said. He even managed to sound sincere.


	2. Tea Party on the Ceiling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I use quotes and ideas taken from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. I also quote the children's poem The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear

I love to laugh,  
Loud and long and clear;  
I love to laugh,  
It's getting worse every year.

~ I Love to Laugh, Mary Poppins

#~#~#

 **1999 – Summer – England**

"This is ridiculous." Hermione sniffed, brushing scone crumbs off her white dress and red velvet waistcoat.

They fell down past her head to the floor below. An odd occurrence, if they had not been seated upside down with the table stuck to the ceiling.

The food and drink was also charmed to stick to the plates and cups. It made consuming it easier and they did not have to worry about hot tea falling into their eyes.

"I dunno, Mione. It seems like fun." Ron cut in, picking up his tea cup and taking a small sip before blanching. "Urgh. What's this made out of anyway?" He looked down from his seat at the head of the table to Harry who was lazing in the armchair at the other end.

"Fresh Dodo tears." Harry grinned widely, "I was assured they're the best."

"It's a bit salty." Ron replied.

Harry tilted his head to the side, almost coming right-side up, "Maybe it needs more jam?"

Ron glanced down to his cup and scratched his head under his top-hat, "You think?"

Harry twisted until he was sitting straight, stretching his arms above him to hear his back crack. Long purple striped gloves running up past his elbows, the fingertips ending in small claws that clicked together as he tapped them together.

In addition he had managed to talk Hermione around into charming him a pair of purple cat ears and striped tail, which moved like they were actually real.

"Oh yes. Jam solves everything."

"I thought Time solved everything." Neville cut in quietly, pouring himself and Luna another cup of tea.

"Oh no, Time can't solve everything. He's frightfully busy, don't you know."

"I suppose he must be," Neville conceded, dunking in his cup a piece of bread and butter.

"Tch." Hermione sniffed loudly, staring down at the large heart-shaped pocket watch she had pulled out of her waistcoat and drawing all their attention to herself. "He's late."

"Who's late?" Harry asked, his tail curling around his wrist. "Is it someone I know?"

"Harry?"

Harry jerked and craned backwards over the chair, his face lighting up in a grin at the sight of Ash standing in the doorway, looking at him in concern.

"Ash!"

"Harry," Ash said, taking a step further into the room, "What are you doing up there?"

"Why, I'm having a tea party on the ceiling, of course."

"Yes, I can see that. But why?"

Harry shrugged, "Why not? Would you like to join us?"

Ash took in the entirety of the scene above him. "And how would I do that?" he asked.

"Silly," Harry scoffed with a grin, "Just walk up to the wall and keep on walking."

Ash hesitated, then did as Harry suggested, keeping his surprise under wraps when the room seemed to turn with him so that he was never anything but standing flat on the floor on the ceiling.

He stopped when he stood by Harry, his hand resting on the back of the pushy armchair.

"Hello Ash! Glad you could visit." Harry grinned and propped his head on his fist, elbow landing in a pat of butter.

"You have butter on your elbow." Luna pointed out, her hair streaming down to the floor, swaying in the breeze. She was the only one out of all of them that had managed to circumnavigate the spells on her hair.

To Harry, it looked like she had been electrocuted, but that was Luna he supposed.

"Ah," Harry said, "but it's the very _best_ butter."

Hermione sniffed again and clicked the pocket watch closed with derision. "He's _late_."

Harry laughed, "I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it, Mione. After all, it's not like we even invited him."

"Harry," Ash cut through, "I have something I need to talk to you about."

"Oh! How rude of me!" Harry exclaimed, "Of course, of course! Please, have a seat!" He gestured to the chair on his immediate left. It was right next to Hermione and opposite Luna.

Ash hesitated again, and then gingerly sat down, glancing around the table.

"Tea?" Harry asked, holding up a spotty teapot.

"Yes, alright." Ash said, waiting until Harry had finished pouring him a cup and stirred in a spoonful of jam. He took a sip, hiding his wince. "Harry-"

"Let me introduce you!" Harry cut across him. "We're having an Alice tea party."

Ash opened and then closed his mouth. "Alright," he said eventually, humouring him.

"Ron's the Mad Hatter" Harry said, pointing out the other teen sitting at the opposite head of the table wearing a top hat and tails, and laughed, "Well, he'd have to be, he's the only one with red hair. Red like fire, red like blood…" He trailed off and frowned heavily as pain sparked behind his right eye, "blood…"

"And who else is who?"

Harry jerked his head up at the sound of Ash's voice, shaking himself from the odd occurrence.

He giggled, "Who, who! Like an owl!" He giggled again and titled his head in consideration, "I had an owl once. She was white. Her name was Hedwig…" he tilted his head in the opposite direction and tapped his claws on his chin, being careful not to scratch himself, "I wonder whatever happened to her?" He pondered, "She was…there was…light…so much, and fighting…I…"

"Harry."

Harry jerked his head to Hermione in a move so quick he almost wrenched his neck. Hermione shook her head at him, her face solemn.

"Hermione had a cat" he eventually continued, "Crookshanks. He disappeared too. Maybe they disappeared off together?" He grinned sharply, "The owl and the pussy-cat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat." He quoted as he leant across the armrest, hands gripping Ash's arm, "Do you think they're together Ash?" he asked quietly, intensely.

"Maybe." Ash conceded, sitting stock still as Harry's razor sharp claws rested on his leather jacket.

"Maybe." Harry repeated, "Maybe." He tightened his grip for a moment and then ripped himself away, throwing himself backwards into his seat, eyes wide, his grin stretched to breaking point.

"Anyway! Hermione's the White Rabbit." He motioned to Hermione, who was primly taking a sip of tea. "Was going to make her the March Hare but it didn't really fit." He leant closer to Ash, "She's not really mad enough." He whispered loudly.

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, though her lips did curl up slightly at the corners.

Harry chuckled for a moment, and then his face fell, "But she's late. Late, late, late. For a very important date." He said sadly, "She's always checking out her pocket watch, and I don't want her to go."

Ash put down his tea cup. "I'm sure she won't go anywhere."

Harry looked at him sadly. "I'm afraid she's already gone."

Ash blinked, "Where did she go?"

Harry frowned, "What?"

"You just-" Ash cut himself off at Harry's confusion. "Never mind."

Harry looked at him for a moment longer and then shrugged and pointed to the teen sitting on the other side of Ron, opposite Hermione, dressed entirely in brown.

"Neville's the Dormouse, of course. We were going for irony. A mouse with the heart of a lion – or Gryffindor as the case is!" He started to giggle and wrapped his tail around his fingers, "Jaws, jaws, bite, bite, eat the snake-"

He sucked in a harsh breath as the pain behind his eye stabbed through his head, causing his vision to swim and his stomach to clench.

"Harry?" He could hear Ash calling his name, but it was so very far away and seemed to be coming from the other end of a tunnel rather than just beside him.

"Eat the snake," he repeated to himself, the pain increasing, " _eat the snake_."

A gentle touch on his wrist brought him back out of it. The pain suddenly disappearing, his vision clearing. Glancing down he saw that a feminine hand in a delicate white lace glove was resting on his; he absently noticed that he was crushing his tail in his grip and opened his hands.

Then his gaze followed the hand, up the arm, to see Luna looking at him in concern, with just a hint of sadness.

No matter what he wanted, he couldn't drag his green eyes away from her own silvery blue. Eyes made all the more brighter by the blue of her ruffled dress.

"And Luna." He said quietly, "Loony Luna – precious Alice of course." He reached out and covered her hand with his, "The only sane one in a world of insanity." He smiled sadly, echoing Luna, "or is that the other way round? I forget." He glanced at Ash as he linked his and Luna's fingers together, suddenly serious, "Though Nargles won't be able to help you against the Bandersnatch."

Ash stared at him, unable to come up with anything to say to that.

Harry ginned at him, this time a lot more sunny, "And I'm the Cheshire Cat. I'm not really here, I'm not really there – I'm not really anywhere! Isn't it _marvellous?_ " he asked, lazing backward, claws digging into the armchair back and looking, for all intents and purposes, as if he was a very satisfied cat.

Ash's lips twitched, "I see. Then who am I?"

Harry cocked his head to the side, leaning forward slightly, "Who do you _want_ to be?"

"I don't know," Ash shrugged, "why don't you pick out a character?"

"The Queen!" Harry jerked up, "The Queen! Off with his head!" he started to cackle, " _Off with his head!_ "

Suddenly he twitched violently and looked over at Ash. "No, no. That can't be! You're not a woman!" he twitched again, "What about the March Hare? We need a March Hare – but no, you're not quite mad enough, are you? Not even after everything…"

Trailing off, he slumped back into his seat, claws scratching at his cheek as he thought about the problem, leaving deep gouges that let blood run down his throat until it soaked into his collar. He didn't seem to notice. "Oh! I've got it! The son! The son!"

Ash jerked, "I'm not sure who that-"

He was cut off when Harry leant over his chair again and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragging him down. Luna made a small noise of protest when he let go of her hand but Neville held her back, shaking his head. Ron and Hermione just watched quietly.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son." Harry said lowly, "The jaws that bite, the claws that catch." He leant in closer until Ash could feel his breath brush across his lips, smell his blood, his voice dropped further until it was almost guttural, "Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch."

Ash sat frozen, one hand clenched around the arm of his chair, the other uselessly covering Harry's grip on his shirt.

Harry smiled viciously at him and shifted slightly, so close that their lips brushed together when he next spoke, "You're the white knight, ever fighting, ever slaying." He whispered, "Tell me, Ash. Do you have your Vorpal sword to hand? You're going to need it soon…"

Ash's jaw clenched, "I need your help." He forced out between gritted teeth, refusing to back away from him.

Harry tilted his head to the left, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth as the blood trickled to his lips instead of down his neck. The taste of it seemed to bring him out of whatever spell he had cast upon himself and he sat back, suddenly completely relaxed. The rest of the group seemed to relax slightly as well, and Harry could hear some of them breathe in relief.

"Ha ha! No one needs my help anymore, Ash!" He rubbed at his cheek with the back of his hand, the blood soaking into the glove. "I've already defeated my Jabberwocky." He smiled ruefully and dropped his hand into his lap, the cuts on his cheeks completely healed, "Now they've cast me aside – they don't need me."

Then his shoulders hunched as he curled into himself, eyes darting around in fear as something started to scratch at the walls, "But there's things Ash. Things that live in the tulgey wood…"

Around him, the wood of the chairs and tables seemed to stretch, until there were trees growing around him up to the floor. Harry could do nothing as they seemed to close in on him, the shadows between their trunks darkening until it was all he could do to see beyond the first few layers.

In the blackness, something moved.

His breath hitched as he looked away, linking his fingers back up with Luna. "They're there and they're waiting. I can feel them, can hear them whispering to me. I don't want to go in there Ash." He let out a quiet, fearful sob, " _I don't want to go in there_."

"I'm not asking you to."

Harry blinked blurry tears up at Ash and sniffed pathetically, "You're not?"

Ash shook his head and cautiously reached out, gripping the small teen's hand in his own. He could feel the glove, damp with blood, under his palm. "No."

Harry sat up straighter but didn't pull his grip away from either Ash or Luna, "Then what are you asking?"

Ash sighed, "There's a man." He started, "Much like you. And he's being punished, trapped away in the middle of Alaska."

"And?"

"I would like you to go and live with him. Try to help him. He's not the nicest of men but I think you can get through to him."

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "Why are you trying to help him? You said he was being punished, right?"

Ash shifted, but refused to lean back and remove his hand. He needed Harry to understand how very important this was. That didn't make it easy to admit his mistakes to someone who didn't know.

"I wronged him." He said eventually, "I hurt him without him knowing about it, and now I need to try and fix him."

Harry shrugged, "Then just tell him what you did."

"I can't." Ash admitted quietly.

"Would you like me to?" Harry offered.

Ash gave him a small smile that quickly disappeared. "You can't either. If he finds out what's wrong then he'll get worse." He risked a glance up to see Harry looking at him sadly.

"So you want me to go to him? I'm not the most desired role model in the sanity department."

Ash chuckled and squeezed his hand. "No, but you have a light about you Harry. I know that if anyone can save him it'll be you."

Harry pursed his lips in a moue of thought. "Yes. I _do_ have some experience with saving people."

"I'm just asking you to live with him and distract him."

"Distract?"

"When he looks like he's falling into his own world I'll need you to pull him out."

Harry nodded and shivered, "It's not fun being trapped in your own world."

"I don't know how long you'll have to stay there." Ash warned, "It could be years. I don't want you to feel like you have to go if you're needed here."

Harry laughed. "I told you Ash. I have nothing for me here. I live all alone in this house." He frowned suddenly, realising that he wasn't alone with Ash, "Can I bring my friends?"

"Friends?" Ash asked carefully.

"Luna, Neville, Ron and Hermione." Harry said, "They won't be any trouble, I promise. I can enlarge and build extra rooms for them and they can keep away from…er…"

"Zarek."

"Zarek." Harry continued. "It'll be like they're not really there at all."

"Well, I-"

"Please, Ash?" Harry begged, "I don't go anywhere without them now."

"Okay," Ash nodded, "Your friends can come along. I'm sure Zarek won't mind. So you'll do it?"

"Yes. I'll do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. When I said Harry was a little unhinged – what I really meant was he's bat shit insane. And, yes, Zarek's future mental breakdown is all Ash's fault. It'll be explained in more detail in a future chapter though :)


	3. Zarek

Every where I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded.  
I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.  
Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.

~ Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

#~#~#

 **1999 – Summer – Alaska**

He could hear them, tapping at the walls. Zarek tightened his grip on his hair and curled tighter into himself.

He wanted it to stop. The tapping, the _tapping_.

 _The incessant tapping._

But it wouldn't. It never did. It was always there, always heard. Sometimes he managed to drown it out, could pretend that it was the rain of his youth tapping on the wooden overhang by the slaves quarters.

Could fall asleep and get away.

But not now. Lately the tapping had become louder, more insistent.

It had gone from a pattering to a constant drumming on his walls. He couldn't even sleep easily anymore as, whenever he managed to drop off, the noise would follow him into his dreams.

And then, when he woke up, the tapping would be louder. Would be faster.

Would be that much harder to escape.

In the beginning he had thought that it may have been a problem with his generator. He had worked and worked on the machine but it hadn't helped. In a fit of frustration he had taken an axe to it – but the sound hadn't stopped. In fact, it had become louder, like it was mocking him.

When he had realised that it was nothing in his small shack that was making the annoying noise, he had thought to outrun it - escape for a few hours.

As soon as it had fallen dark he had left, not to do anything but stand in the middle of nowhere and let the silence consume him.

It had worked. For a time.

Then it turned to summer. He was lucky to get enough darkness to safely go out and do needed repair work on the outside of his house to keep the sun out for one more day.

He certainly didn't have enough time to travel away from everything, to find a place that was barren of everything to give him the silence he craved.

It had almost driven him mad, those months. And then it was winter again. Winter – with its darkness and ice and the ability to make even _him_ fear death.

The first night he was able to he dropped any plans of repair work or thoughts of food and slogged his way to the place on the tundra he had found. Desperation making him half run, half stumble the entire way there.

He needed the silence. He _needed_ it.

And when he had arrived there? The tapping had followed him.

He had fallen to his knees in the biting snowstorm and wept, his tears freezing on his cheeks.

That night he had debated staying out there. Let the darkness and purity of the snow carry him away unto death. The only problem, and the problem that had him staggering to his knees and then his feet, was that he wasn't sure whether the tapping would follow him into the afterlife.

Shadedom was horrific enough – always thirsty, always hungry – without adding the constant, inescapable noise.

No, if he was going to spend eternity trapped in this hell, he was going to do so alive.

He'd fought to live. He'd damn well not let a noise drive him into eternal damnation.

If only it was so easy.

The tapping became louder and Zarek tightened his hold even further, beginning to rock back and forth. He could feel his fingernails digging into his scalp; feel the blood trickle through his hair. There was a coppery explosion on his tongue and it was with absent minded shock that Zarek realised that he had bitten through his bottom lip with his fangs.

He let out a small whimper against his will.

At the small emission the tapping stilled.

After a few seconds of silence Zarek opened his eyes and cautiously looked up. Stiff fingers unclenching from his hair.

It stayed silent.

His eyes darted around, too jaded to think that it was over with such a small concession but with just a small enough spark of hope to think that maybe…

Something pounded at the door, causing it to shake on its hinges.

With a short, sharp scream, Zarek scrambled backwards, horror painting his face as he held up his arm in a futile attempt to ward off the nightmare.

The pounding stopped – but it wasn't over. Zarek's attention was dragged to the floor and the shadows that were puddling under the crack.

It should have been impossible. The door was airtight. Nothing should be able to soak its way through once closed.

The darkness didn't seem to care and Zarek felt his heart beginning to pound in his chest, his breath coming faster as the shadows grew denser, grew larger, spreading across the floor and up the walls, reaching for him.

He pushed himself back, until he was pressed against the wooden walls furthest from the door.

"No." His voice came out a croak.

The shadows ignored his protest, clawing their way to him, swallowing everything in darkness. Zarek felt a terror he had never experienced before.

Then the pounding started up again from within the blackness. He couldn't see it, but he could hear the hinges rattle, could hear the wood start to splinter and give way and, with the clarity of the dispossessed, knew that whatever was on the other side of the door _could not_ be let in.

" _No._ "

He pushed himself back further, his feet scrabbling across the floor as he tried to pull them underneath his legs to protect them against the questing tendrils.

His hands scrambled around him, searching for a weapon, and he almost jumped out of his skin when his fingers struck ice-cold metal.

He was hyperventilating now, not wanting to look away lest the darkness overwhelm him. Grabbing hold of the object, he raised it to his face so that he could see it without taking his eyes off the shadow.

Silver shone in the darkness - cutting through it like a magnesium flare.

The shadows seemed to rear back and hesitate, the pounding on the door ceasing for the moment.

Zarek gripped his silver claws tighter, slipping them onto his hands he felt something tight in his chest relax. This was good. This was _right_.

The claws shone brighter as he stood.

He could beat this.

Filled with a sense of completion, he took a challenging step forward, watching with satisfaction as the shadows retreated.

"That's right." He said, tilting his chin in challenge. "I won't run."

The shadows gathered themselves, drawing down from the walls, becoming a towering pillar of black. Zarek faced it without fear.

After years. _This_ was his opponent. And he would defeat it just like every other opponent he had faced.

Time froze then, without any warning, they both sprang at each other. The shadow with a silent roar, Zarek with a wordless snarl of rage.

His blades slashed through the air and he felt a savage glee at the thought of finally killing his tormentor, when he seemed to freeze in mid-air, his body trapped.

" _No!_ "

The shadow was not restricted in such a way and Zarek felt helpless as it rushed towards him, unable to stop it. Unable to look away from, what was certainly, oncoming death.

Then, without warning, two silver coins of light pierced the darkness, causing it to freeze as well.

Zarek, his heart pounding at the near miss, could only stare at the small, perfect disks.

What was this? He had no clue. All he knew was that they had stopped the shadow and that he was still trapped, unable to move.

The lights disappeared and reappeared in quick succession. It took Zarek a moment to work it out, but the lights were _blinking_.

With that realisation, the shadows shifted. Zarek had the throat-tightening fear that they were going to strike at him. But no, they seemed to suck in on themselves, tightening and moulding.

It was with a jolt that Zarek realised that he could feel a hand gripping his wrist. But he was more distracted with the two lights and what the shadows were doing.

It wasn't until Zarek could make out a nose that he realised that they were taking the form of a face.

A familiar face.

"A-ash?"

Ash titled his head slightly and opened his mouth.

Zarek _knew_ that Ash was speaking. Saying something to him, probably something important. But for the life of him he couldn't hear what he was saying. He dragged his gaze down to his lips but, as Ash was still made entirely out of shadow, they were impossible to read.

There was the beginning of a whisper. It was so far from the tapping that Zarek wanted to weep.

As it was, he closed his eyes tight to keep the burning at bay. He would not show weakness. Not now, not when his enemy had turned into an ally.

"Zarek." It was said quietly. Not whispered, just muffled.

"Zarek." It came again, more insistent this time and Zarek gathered the strength to force his eyes open.

The shadows had completely disappeared and Ash was back to his original colouring, looking at him in concern with those soul-saving silver eyes. Zarek stared at them, fascinated despite himself.

Ash also seemed to be the one holding his arm in place, the tips of Zarek's silver claws bare centimetres from his face.

"Zarek."

Zarek jerked. Or would have if he wasn't still frozen in place.

"Are you with me, Zarek?"

Pressure he hadn't even noticed eased off his jaw and throat, Zarek licked his lips.

"Yes." He croaked.

Ash stared at him for another moment, measuring his answer, before nodding and releasing his wrist. As soon as he let go the rest of the pressure disappeared and Zarek almost fell to the ground, only catching himself at the last moment.

As it was he staggered heavily and had to rest his hands on his knees as the room span around him.

"Wow. You were right, Ash. I see what you meant."

Zarek's head shot up and his gaze landed on a short man, peeking around the back of Ash's stiff form.

"Who the fuck are you?" He spat.


End file.
